fake scars

Latter that day

Moms Point of view

-phone rings-

"Hello?" I say.

"Hello, I'm sorry to tell you this, but your daughter is dead." the person on the phone says.

"What, no. that can't be possible. please tell me this isn't true." I say dramatically, my daughter, no. she's to young and precious.

"Sorry, ma'am. She committed suicide two hours ago," phone hangs up.

I can't believe it, my baby. why did I never know why she was so depressed. i thought I was giving her enough attention, enough things she needed or wanted. it's all my fault, I should have listened more carefully, I should have more attention. I'm now in a chair facing towards the window. Why was the day so bright and happy, when you were so down and dark? this is the worst.

"Honey, who was that?" my husband asked.

"It was the hospital," I had to stop there.

"Why are they calling here?" He asked.

"It's Alexandra," I say, almost to tears.

"What's wrong, is she hurt, let's go see her!" he says panicking.

"We can't," I pause. "she's .... dead." I burst out crying. He just stares at me.

"She's what, I don't believe it. She can't be, no. not my daughter." and he just crying with me.